Why It's Dark Outside At Night
by NRC
Summary: They had no future together; they both knew that. So when he moves on, why can't she let go? Another angsty song-fic. One-shot, FIC CHALLENGE.


**AN: _All recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling._**

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He didn't mean to hurt her. They had both known that there was no real future for them; especially with her being at the top of the social ladder. She was bound to be married off like her sister Bellatrix, into a 'respectable' family. And he knew she would never hurt her parents like Andromeda had done when she'd married a Muggle.

_She don't want nobody near_

_But you can't get away from that_

But now, she was deliberately hurting him with what she was doing. No, it wasn't the actions itself that pained him—although, in a way, that too hurt him a little. It was the pain and grief she was causing _herself_. It made him guilty, but he'd had no choice. It wasn't as though they could be together.

_They appear and disappear_

_And they all got a string attached_

Didn't she realize that it was _her_ giving _herself_ grief? That by hurting herself, she was hurting him? He knew she wasn't stupid; why couldn't she see that they were all just _pricks_? They only wanted her money. Why couldn't she _try_ to find _real love_, or perhaps wait around for it, instead of giving her heart completely to every boy who expressed interest in her?

_Pretty soon they got you hanging on a line_

_Pretty soon they're singing one by one the same old rhyme_

He could pretend not to hear her conversations, but in all honesty, the thing cardboard-like wood between their offices offered neither of them privacy. He could always hear the disappointment in her voice when she Flooed another one of _them_, and they gave her a pathetic excuse for not being able to come in or go out to see her.

_They say, "I'm alright, I just can't get home tonight_."

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The fake smile on her face ceased as she entered the mansion. It was her one refuge, the one place she truly called home. This was where she let down her mask and allowed herself to feel the pain freely. There were no witnesses; her father had died, her mother had moved to France, and both her sisters were married. The manor was completely and utterly silent—just the way she liked it.

_She don't want nobody home_

_Cause it's a little too crowded then_

She sighed a little as the house-elf held out her dress. Another ball at another pure-blood manor. Wasn't she sick of these already? Wasn't she tired of pretending, again and again, that her heart was unoccupied and would be given to whoever managed to charm her that night? _His_ face flashed into her mind again, and she remembered. It was his warm eyes that solidified her resolve. She quickly took the dress and proceeded to dress herself.

_But she don't want to be alone_

_So they just keep pouring in_

One day, she promised to herself (while wearing a grim, forced smile), she'll marry a man who didn't indulge in idle chatter. This man in front of her, a certain Robert McMillan, had wasted her first hour by talking about the _weather_. She learnt more about the different clouds than she cared for. What was the use of clouds in married life? But she was a proper pure-blood daughter. She smiled and bore it.

_Pretty soon they have her headed for the door_

_She comes home to find that they're not hanging 'round no more_

There was no heartbreak or pain this time. Maybe she'd gotten numb. She wasn't particularly sure if she liked that or not. If she'd gotten numb, that meant she couldn't continue. The whole point of it was to feel the pain she knew she caused him by telling him the truth of her feelings; that she told him she loved him, her last card to persuade him to stay. The pain she knew she deserved for hurting him. But this numbness; it meant she'd gotten used to it.

_She says, "I'm alright, you just can't get home tonight."_

She cowered in her room, her tears pouring as she pictured his face. She'd done it, remembering _him_, every time she saw a new man she seemed interested in her. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she always noticed something that reminded her of him. Robert McMillan, for example, had been his complete opposite. McMillan had made her feel awkward and bored with his inane chapter; _he_ had made her feel at peace with his comforting silence.

_Don't you wonder what she looks like in the light_

She didn't want to be like them; the power-hungry, money-loving fools. She wanted to _fall in love_, not love after marriage. She wanted her husband to make her feel complete, not making her feel like she had to carry another burden. She didn't want to be like _them_.

_She says, "I'm alright, I just can't get home tonight."_

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She'd changed in the one month since the beginning of the end. It had been gradual, but he'd seen it. He saw through her new façade, he knew she was wearing a new mask. Ironically, it was what he'd always thought her to be before he dated her. It was what intimidated him in the first place, and was a contributing factor to their end.

_Pretty whitewashed lies_

_Endless alibis_

It was like she became the person he feared her to be _after_ their end. As if she was proving him right; proving him wrong by proving him right. Her new mask was a mask she'd shown him; she'd also shown him that it was a dimension of her life. He'd always she was a diamond in beauty, a diamond in wealth, but it was only now that he appreciated the different facets in her life that made her as dazzling as she was.

_And reasons that need cleaning every night_

_Half a world away_

She seemed comfortable in the mask. If he hadn't known her better, he'd have thought this was how she truly was. She loved going to balls and dressing up, but he knew her favourite place was her garden, sitting amongst the flowers in a plain, flower-patterned skirt and blouse. What frightened him a little was the speed of the transition; perhaps the mask had always been there. It seemed to fall into place rather easily. She had truly blossomed into the ideal pure-blood daughter.

_You can't get away from the stain of deceiving_

_And the things you cannot believe_

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She slipped the stilettos off her aching feet. She'd honestly and truly had had enough of the politics and precarious chess-game of the elite. She wanted a simple life: a loving husband, a beautiful child, and the comfort of her own home. She didn't know how much more she could take before she collapsed completely from the strenuous activity of finding a husband. She wanted it to be over.

_She don't want nobody around_

_Cause she don't want nobody to see_

She plopped rather ungracefully on to the leather sofa. She pulled the Prophet towards her, trying to ignore words that reminded her of him. It could be the most inconspicuous word, such as 'and'. They had jokingly debated about the importance of the comma before 'and' when listing things. She blinked, and the 'and' bled out. More blotches appeared as her tears burst their dam.

_What she looks like when she's down_

_Cause that's a real sad place to be_

Maybe she'd had enough of crying. Maybe she was tired of her past. After all, how was she to find a proper husband when she mooned around like that/. What husband would want a wife who wished he was someone else? She didn't need him any more. She'd prove it once and for all. She'd prove it. She'd show the world she was as tough as a diamond.

_Pretty soon she gets them crawling up the walls_

_Then she wonders why they beg her not to call_

She pulled the Prophet towards her again. She almost crumbled when she turned the page over.

**Aspiring Auror Marries Herbologist**

There was a picture of him and his new wife. She closed her eyes, feeling the saw cutting her heart again. She savoured the pain, hoping it would be the last. She opened her eyes, and gently touched newspaper-him on the cheek with a finger. She looked at his wife, with her happy, caring face. It was a face she knew she couldn't pull of in public; that warm, kind face. She closed the Prophet with a little smile on her face. She was happy he'd found someone perfect for him, someone who could make him happy. Now it was time for her to find her own.

_She says, "I'm okay, it's alright_

_Hey look who's on TV tonight."_

It was that happy couple picture which fired up her attempts at finding _the one_. She wanted that happiness, that completeness, that sense of belonging to someone. At that moment, she didn't care if she had to put her money and name forward to find _him_. Only one sentence ran in her mind as she sifted through the petty men: "Theoretical Auror Frank Longbottom married Alice Prewett in a private ceremony."

_She says, "I'm alright, I just can't get home tonight."_

Truly, she had given up by the time her friend Adelina Nott had invited her to her engagement party. She had started going back into her shell, convinced the pure-blooded Black line ended with her—Andromeda had married a Muggle, and Bellatrix showed no inclination to have children. When she set off to Adelina Nott's party, she had given up finding _him_. What she hadn't counted on was him finding _her_.

_Don't you wonder why it's dark outside at night?_

He was Francois Zabini's Best Man. To her, he looked like a star, with his platinum-blonde hair, magnetic grey eyes, and a pale complexion. He radiated a certain coldness that dared her to come closer. It was the cool eyes as they appraised her, challenger her, that had her introduce herself to him.

As the months flew by, both Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy warmed up to the idea of marriage. And the rest, as they say, is history.

_She says, "I'm alright, I just can't get home tonight."_

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**AN:**

Written for call-me-bee's **I'd Never iPod Shuffle Challenge**.

_**She Don't Want Nobody Near**_ by **Counting Crows**

I actually liked this story, although it's a bit abstract. It has what I like to call time-holes, where it's not defined what happens in certain parts of the story, but you can assume because of the characters' next actions.

My favourite bit was definitely "Don't you wonder why it's dark outside at night?" The answer to that, for me, is because if it wasn't dark outside, you wouldn't see the stars. Implying: if there wasn't pain, you couldn't appreciate the good parts of life.

**Review your thoughts and opinions.  
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